


Aftermath

by fourthage



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9536663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourthage/pseuds/fourthage
Summary: The after effects of Morinth catch up with Shepard when she and Garrus are ambushed by the Blue Suns.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frandayam (darebearscare)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=frandayam+%28darebearscare%29).



_One day_ ,  Shepard thought.  _I'd like to get through one day without someone shooting at me._ She craned her neck to look through the narrow opening between the panels of the small balcony.  Five Blue Suns just below, another three in the passageway outside.  If EDI hadn't picked up their radio chatter, the planned ambush would have succeeded brilliantly.  Fresh of off her encounter with Morinth, Shepard was out of armor, armed with only a pistol and a turian who needed to stay under the radar.  
  
“When you said we'd test your flexibility, I didn't think you meant it this literally.”  Garrus's voice was low rumble to her right.  The overhang in which they were hiding was barely big enough for one.  Shepard had compensated by shoving her limbs into whatever free space remained, and as a result was draped over Garrus in a kind of half-embrace.  If she'd been in her armor, they never would have fit behind the concealing panels.  
  
“Trust me, this is a bit less fun than what I had in mind.”  Shepard carefully lowered herself back down.  Garrus's armor was cool and hard beneath her.  She welcomed the sensation.  Morinth had left her nerves scraped raw and oversensitive.  
  
“What's the ETA for backup?” Garrus asked.  
  
“Twenty minutes.  I don't think they saw us, so we just need to wait.”  She squirmed, trying to ease the pressure of an edge of armor digging into her hip.  Garrus started to raise his hands, hesitated, then grasped her hips and helped her shift to a more comfortable position.  His hands flexed once, as if to let go again, but then settled more firmly on the upper curve into her waist.  Shepard glanced at him, but his head was tilted back against the side wall and his gaze was fixed firmly upwards.  
  
A peculiar tension settled as they lay there, listening to the slow in and out of their breathing.  Shepard turned her head and rested it on the side of Garrus's keel, and his thumbs began a gentle motion at her waist.    
  
One part of her wished Garrus was in his civvies too, so she could feel him properly.  A larger part, still feeling bruised and unclean, distrusted her physical reaction and was glad for the metal barrier.  She wasn't sure she could sort out her own attraction from the heightened responses Morinth had pulled from her.  
  
There was a shout below, and Garrus's hands tightened as they both tensed.  More angry voices followed, then moved away.  Garrus checked the opening again and shook his head.  “We only lost two.”  He relaxed as the immediate threat of discovery faded again.  His legs parted a bit as he did so and one of Shepard's legs slipped between them.  The top of his thigh pressed against the apex of her legs, and she tensed all over again.  
  
“Everything okay?” Garrus asked.  
  
“Yeah, just-” Shepard broke off as he tried to rearrange his leg.  “Wait,” she gasped, focusing on not following the movement.  “Don't-”  He froze just as his thigh pressed hard against her, and she couldn't help the little jerking motion of her hips.  She panicked and tried to push off, forgetting about staying behind the concealment, but he grabbed her just in time and pulled her back.  Her hips hitched, then again, her body moving despite herself.  
  
Garrus went very still under her, holding her waist just by the fingertips like he didn't know whether to encourage her or not.  That should have made her pause—she wanted to pause—but her body wasn't listening.  Her control had already stretched and cracked earlier, and now it broke entirely.    Her breathing sounded harsh in her ears as she pressed against him in short, sharp motions.  There was no sharing in what she was doing, nothing but the mindless pursuit of her own release.  She hated the thought even as she had it.  
  
Everything was too intense.  Each jolt of pleasure, the tightening of her skin against the coolness of his armor, her feelings of want and hate and fear.    
  
Garrus moved his leg then, pressing up as she pressed down, and she barely kept from crying out.  Desperate, she leaned up and drew deep breaths by his neck as she moved.  His scent was like an anchor.  This was Garrus.  This was just between them.  It was safe.  She'd always be herself—and only herself—with him.  She nearly sobbed as she came.  
  
As her breathing slowed in the aftermath, Shepard waited for the reproach.  Understanding or not, she'd just rutted on top of Garrus in the middle of a hostile situation.    
  
“Damn it,” she said.  “Garrus, I'm so sorry.”  She raised her head to look at him, and was surprised to find a strangely intent expression on his face.  
  
“Me too,” he said, and the temperature of his armor must have sunk through her skin, because there was suddenly a cold feeling in her chest.  She opened her mouth to apologize again when their backup finally arrived.  
  
The Blue Suns were quickly dispatched, and their conversation was suspended as they followed Grunt and Miranda back to the Normandy.  Shepard kept the debrief short. She used the captain's prerogative for a longer and hotter shower than allowed by the regs and still didn't feel entirely clean at the end of it. Her bed was tempting, but she knew she couldn't put off the inevitable.  
  
“Am I interrupting?” Shepard asked as she entered the main battery.  
  
“Not really.”  Garrus leaned back against his console with the same welcoming look as always, but Shepard took no comfort from it.  “So,” he said.  “I guess I can add armor to the list?”  
  
Shepard, who had opened her mouth to apologize again, shut it with an audible click.  
  
“Scars, turian bad boys,” Garrus elaborated, then waved a hand up and down.  “Armor.”  
  
“I thought you'd be upset.”    
  
Garrus gave her a questioning look.    
  
“You said you were sorry too.”  
  
“I was.  I really wanted to know what that would have felt like without armor in the way.”  
  
Shepard gave a little laugh.  “I thought I'd put you off.  What I did… that's not what I wanted for us.  Not like that.”  
  
There was a short silence.  
  
“Not like what exactly?”  
  
“Not one-sided like that.  Not only about relief.”  Shepard took a breath.  “And not in a place so damn unprofessional.”  
  
The last got a laugh from him.  “You haven't got me killed yet.”  
  
“So we're still good?”  
  
“Still good.”  
  
She turned to go when his voice stopped her.  
  
“So what makes it a professional place?”  
  
“Can't get more professional than the captain's quarters.  And Garrus?”  She threw a grin at him as she walked backwards out the door.  “Bring wine.”


End file.
